


I want it all (whizzvin)

by ghettoblasterz



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn, Falsettos - Lapine/Finn (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marvin (Falsettos) Being an Asshole, Passion, Porn With Plot, Smut, Top Marvin (Falsettos), Top!Marvin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 03:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoblasterz/pseuds/ghettoblasterz
Summary: whizzer and marvin get to play when jason goes away.





	I want it all (whizzvin)

**Author's Note:**

> this is from a while back; not my best buuut

"C'mon, Jason! Trina- I mean, your mother's in the driveway!" Marvin called, craning his head back to face the staircase, where he not-so-patiently awaited the descending of his son of whom was old enough by then to know not to keep his mother waiting.

"You have no patience, dad, no patience at all," Jason replied from the top of the stairs. 

His squeaky little voice hardly carried far, and hadn't for as long as he'd been living, all these twelve years- Marvin was beginning to wonder just when exactly his only child's voice would drop, or if it ever would at all. 

The boy crashed down the stairs in a blur of wiry brunet hair, with a red backpack draped over one shoulder. There, stuffed into his pocket, was his Walkman, a holiday gift from a year prior, with its headphones squeezing against his ears like a long anticipated hug.

"Woah, woah," Marvin interjected, stepping forward suddenly to stop his son before he ran himself into a wall. Taking the boy by the arm, he quietly gestured for him to cut the music for once and listen to his father, which he had been getting increasingly bad at.

Jason rolled his eyes. Oh, the nerve of some people.

Hesitantly, the muffs came down, wrapping around his thin, gooselike neck with a dramatic huff. That was the one trait that linked him to his mother's newest lover, Mendel, although the two were not biologically related. Both of them looked as wiry as Albert Einstein's toe hairs.

"What, dad?" Jason asked. He may not have reached physical puberty as of then, but his attitude was frighteningly close to teen-hood already.

"Don't you 'what, dad?' me, kid. Just because I only have you on weekends doesn't mean I'm any less of your father." At this point, the agitated Marvin had crouched down onto one knee to more accurately meet his son's height. 

There was an occasional blaring car horn from outside in the driveway, where Trina impatiently waited behind the wheel for them to stop dragging their feet and give up the young boy. Monday through Friday, out of Marvin's hair. Mendel was seated in the passenger seat of the vehicle, as usual. Reportedly, the anxious psychiatrist wasn't allowed to drive them places anymore; he'd get nervous, forget where they were going, and then proceed to hyperventilate like a fish out of water. Trina undoubtedly was tired of it after the first few drives. If Marvin knew anything about Trina, it was that she wasn't afraid to put the foot down when it came to her men making mistakes.

The seating arrangement would clearly explain why the ex wife chose not to trudge through the door herself, for that would more than likely have led to more arguing about Jason's eventual bar mitzvah. They certainly didn't want a repeat of what happened last weekend. Mendel just about had a heart attack as soon as Marvin started shouting, and, to be fair, none of them really wanted to see each other as of then, anyways.

Marvin flipped Trina the bird, out of Jason's view, which was his impolite signal for her to calm the fuck down and let him speak to his son for just a moment or twelve more.

"Whatever," Jason continued, carelessly taking the stance of a rude fourteen year old girl, as one does. "Where's Whizzer?"

Of course, he wants to say goodbye to Whizzer before me, Marvin noted, typical Jason. Typical fucking Jason.

Somedays, Marvin wondered as to whether his genius, stupid little Jew son actually favored Whizzer to him. It wasn't like the older made him or anything. 

Marvin himself rolled his eyes, ironically still pondering where Jason could've possibly picked up that dangerous nerve in the first place. Of course, his first thought was Trina. She was certainly not to blame for his behavior, and everybody else knew it but Marvin.

"Whizzer!" Marvin called into the living room, where he knew his boyfriend was either watching TV or touching up in the mirror.

"Yeah, babe?" Whizzer replied, painfully oblivious to Jason's departure. His voice was much sweeter, much softer than Marvin's. In general, Whizzer was sweeter and softer than his other half, but that went without saying.

"Come say goodbye to your son, Whizzer."

Jason winced, shifting tiredly against the hardwood flooring, shiny and constantly cleaned. The concept of Whizzer being yet another father figure in his life was still foreign to him, and hardly believable to begin with. Being sandwiched between four parental figures was hardly fun, especially when they acted like this around, or even in the same remote vicinity, as each other. Jason was still trying to shoehorn the belief that men were supposed to like trucks, violence, and all that other damaging shit into his life. To put it simply, Whizzer and Marvin indulging in Sunday racquetball games and breakfasts in bed late in the morning were anything but Jason's image of what a man should be. Thankfully for his two dads residing in that home, Mendel was hardly what Jason would consider "masculine" either. There was no competition from the beginning.

In opposition, Whizzer pranced into the room grinning brightly. He strode around with his head held high, his eyes childlike with pure, unadulterated excitement. Oh, how he adored the idea of being a father, especially being Jason's father, and now he was closer to the concept than ever before. Marvin stood up when he saw his boyfriend enter, crossing his arms and stepping out of the way, his feet sliding against the polished wood. His face was plastered into that familiar neutral scowl. Sure, he was mad, but the sight of even a moody Jason not being able to conceal a smirk from Whizzer made him want to laugh a little, too.

"Alright, kiddo," Whizzer grinned, kneeling down and patting a hand on Jason's painfully small shoulder. Grow, dammit.

Hesitantly, Jason stepped forward, mumbling, "Love you, dad," and hugging Whizzer tightly, pulling innocently at the back of his tight-fitting shirt. Marvin's heart swelled. At least Jason seemed to be adjusting to the new configuration of parental figures alright, especially now with married godparents Charlotte and Cordelia thrown into the mix.

Whizzer kissed Jason on the forehead, to which the young boy winced and ew'ed. "Love you, too, little man. Hey, it's not gross!"

"It is gross."

"Nuh-uh. Wanna know what is gross?" Whizzer grinned, before mischievously pointing beside him and straight to the already cross Marvin.

The two youngest burst into laughter, although Marvin tried at least somewhat to hide his secret enjoyment. "I am not!" he exclaimed, flicking Whizzer in the back of the head. "You're gross."

"Ow- no! You are."

"Whizzerrrrrrrrr!"

Trina impatiently slammed her fist onto the steering wheel within her car again, glaring at them coldly through her tinted car window and the transparent front door. The little family behind the glass couldn't help as to snicker as Mendel worriedly looked over and tried to kiss his newly wed wife on the cheek to calm her. Of course, she nearly shoved him into next Tuesday, but it was a valiant effort.

Marvin, Whizzer, and Jason had now begun to wish that they had more time with each other for the first time all weekend. This weekend had been quiet, a little too quiet, with Jason obsessing over girls at school in his miniscule room upstairs and listening to some weird music Marvin couldn't imagine enjoying himself. Now it was over; they had wasted their weekly shot at a tight-knit family.

"Love you, dad," Jason mumbled, looking to Marvin as Whizzer climbed back to his feet. Embracing his biological father tightly around the waist, Jason sighed. His little arms were comforting and warm. It felt like a marshmallow, just finished roasting over an open flame, had wrapped itself around Marvin's middle, and he certainly didn't mind it. He ruffled the young one's hair, pursing his lips as his son proceeded to run for the door to go spend yet another grueling week with his mother. Mendel waved goodbye as they pulled away, while the wife simply put on her best "I'm totally okay" face, refused eye contact with Marvin and Whizzer, and put the van in reverse.

There was silence.

Whizzer sighed, dreamily humming to himself and starting to the door to close it properly, concealing them from the cold, cruel outside world. As soon as he pushed it closed, Marvin suddenly found himself hatching an exhilarating idea. A little brash, but something to get their adrenaline rushing for the first time all weekend.

Immediately after the door locked under Whizzer's oddly nimble hands, Marvin strode forward, flipping him over with his own sure arms and pinning him against the alabaster wood. His hands were tightly clamped over Whizzer's wrists. The intent was to hold his lover painfully still as he stretched upwards and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, setting his dominance early on in the game. 

Whizzer at first squeaked in surprise, but relaxed into it just before the both of them began laughing so hard that Marvin had to pull away just to allow his eager grin to shine through.

"I'm gross?" Marvin asked, slyly resurfacing the topic. There was an air of chilling intensity in his voice, ringing through the air not quite like a faint bell, but more like a whispering whip of wind soaring past one's ears and reddening a face in the winter months. God, it was sexy. Whizzer had never found personified wind as thrillingly sexual as he did after reequiting his love with Marvin. "I'll show you gross." 

But, before they could kiss again, Whizzer denied him and giggled, planting his hands against his other half's chest to hold him back just a little longer, and to maybe spare his outfit from a horrible (but sexy!) death by Marvin's hands; pulled apart to shreds right up against the front door because somebody had an erection.

Whizzer was dressed finely yet again that day, but anything he put on, even old people clothes, could be considered "fine" if he was allowed to tamper with it overnight. He wore a light button up, the color of a fading emerald or maybe a vast plain, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows to display his well toned arms. It was tucked into brown jeans and topped with a slightly darker mahogany belt to hold everything together, the finishing touches on the sheer masterpiece that was Whizzer Brown. His hair was gelled back elegantly, making him appear much richer than he really was. The only person who could see through the down-to-earth-yuppie facade was Marvin, because Whizzer always made them shop together. Marvin pretended to hate it, but, secretly, some of their best memories took place at the mall.

Really, Marvin couldn't even compete with his tacky plaid shirts, khakis, and weird brown loafers that looked like something fresh out of his grandpa's closet, but that had been the running gag between them for a while, anyways. There were no hard feelings.

"Marv, I was kidding," Whizzer said, lighthearted but desperately trying to push the adamant Marvin away, "let me go."

"Nah. I wanna stay like this." Protesting, Marvin pressed his thumbs a little harder against Whizzer's pale wrists, rocking his hips forward against his other half's to convince him to stay with a brand-spanking-new plan of attack.

Whizzer's breath immediately caught in his throat, just as Marvin had hoped it would. He paused, before seething, "Oh, you evil little fuck."

Surprisingly, it was Whizzer that caved first, his hands skating down to Marvin's crotch in the hopes of further arousing his boyfriend. One hand wrapped around his lower back, pulling him close, while his other flicked downwards and palmed Marvin through his loose-fitting khakis.

A shock of pleasure coursed through Marvin's legs, causing him to stumble a little. If Whizzer hadn't wrapped an arm around him, it was likely that Marvin would've tumbled to the floor; the younger lover was quite a master in bed.

"Oh, Whizzer, Whizzer Brown," Marvin chimed in a sing-song voice, smiling lazily at his empowered lover. He didn't know what else to say. Who would, being in such a giving/giving relationship? His mouth was so chock full of his partner's name by then that no other words were significant enough to even consider tromping them. Whizzer Brown. Such a gorgeous name. Whizzer, Whizzer, Whizzer.

Before they could continue, Whizzer suddenly stopped. "Wait," he muttered, "Marv, it's only 3PM. Don't you think it's a little early for this?"

"Babe, the weekend only comes once a week. Besides, Jason's gone. We're home alone." Lightly, he began to undo the top buttons of Whizzer's shirt, which the younger characteristically left open when their son wasn't around, anyways.

Whizzer smirked, shaking his head. "Marvin, we're home alone every day," he corrected.

"Well, I'm not at work, I'm not working, and Charlotte and Cordelia aren't here. Happy?"

"You're missing something."

Marvin sighed. "Also, you and I are both horny as all hell, and I love you very, very much."

Missing the cue for something sexy to ensue, Whizzer flashed yet another sparkly, contagious grin Marvin's way. Breaking free from his other's grasp, Whizzer, still leaning back to meet Marvin's height, wrapped his arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly and mumbling, "I love you, too, my sweet," in between a handful of light pecks.

Marvin sought not to argue, for he quite enjoyed the tender love himself. Roaming hands found themselves massaging the inner of Whizzer's thighs to keep him moving, while his lips and tongue kept Whizzer somewhat satisfied. This wasn't very Jewish of them, but it wasn't as if they really believed in God, anyways.

"My angel," Marvin ironically huffed, blowing hot air against his lover's pink lips as they occasionally parted, "my wonderful angel."

Whizzer suddenly moved himself upright, angling his head downwards for Marvin's sake. His warm arms slouched a little farther back around his lover's neck to beckon himself closer. Marvin's kisses, which had now evolved into something much more erotic, felt like heaven on earth against his mouth, where his lips had slowly begun to bruise already.

Before they knew it, they had somehow wandered into the bedroom, and the two of them were helping each other undress. Marvin thoroughly enjoyed stripping down Whizzer, but when it came to himself, he became nervous. Marvin, nervous? That's how one could tell something was really wrong, because Marvin never got nervous. Not ever.

He was only a tad bit insecure. After all, Whizzer was built essentially like a homosexual Prince Charming, and there he was; poor, baggy, midlife-crisis-having Marvin. 

Because of this, Whizzer always agreed to strip first. Marvin pulled the snake-like belt from around his other's hips, snapping it to the side and discarding of it, before going in for the jeans. If they weren't tight already, they sure as hell were now. Marvin was surprised Whizzer hadn't already passed out from a lack of blood flow down there. Then, off came the shirt, crashing to the floor in silence.

Naked Whizzer truly was a work of art. Lightly chiseled abs, just enough, not an uncomfortable amount, toned legs, strong arms, and goddamn, a sweet ass. He was everything Marvin wanted and more. Whizzer really was an angel.

"C'mon, Marv," Whizzer whined, laying himself down on the bed in anticipation. The bed, of course, was neatly made, just as Whizzer liked it. He had perfected his craft of odd-household-chores for years. To speed Marvin along, he slowly began touching himself, ignoring the little twitch in Marvin's lip as he tried to will himself to even move. "I've been waiting all weekend."

"Dammit, Whizzer, you were supposed to help me undress." If Whizzer was doing it for him, he'd have no option but to comply. But, here he was. On his own. Marvin makes big boy decisions for the first time in his life! Hesitantly, he had begun to peel off his own shirt, the absolute worst part for him.

"Hey," Whizzer sighed, folding his legs together and noting his boyfriend's second-thoughts, "why is my handsome angel so anxious?"

"Whizzer."

"Marvin."

Marvin pursed his lips, his hands skating down to his own belt. The pants and boxers would be the least uncomfortable for him to remove, so he settled for those first. There was the clash of the belt buckle against itself, and then the near silent sliding as he uncoiled it from around himself, tossing it to the beige-carpeted floor.

"My angel," Whizzer repeated. This time, his voice was dreamy and soft. Distant. Joyous with anticipation. "My handsome angel. I want it all, and you're my everything."

"Whizzer..." Marvin attempted to stop the flattering compliments, but Whizzer was off of the bed and standing before him before the "r" could even fall from his lips. With unblinking eyes, Whizzer stared at Marvin like he were the most beautiful man in the world, or maybe even royalty; Marvin couldn't tell whether he enjoyed or hated it. After all, he was simply the token "simple neighborhood Jew with a wonky nose and an imperfect figure", right?

This time, Whizzer seemed more alert, missing no cues now that he himself had sprung and could hardly wait any longer. He quickly unbuttoned Marvin's shirt, who pulled it from his strong arms and allowed it to rest on the floor along with their other clothes. His khakis eventually joined them, too, and Whizzer was left again sizing him up, making him all the more self conscious, being that he was literally stripped down to his bare essence. A naked, scraggly-haired Jewish man, compared to his pretty boy, stud boyfriend. They were quite the unlikely pair.

"God, you're a hottie," Whizzer breathed, giggling and letting his angular hands run amuck over Marvin's abdomen and sides. The older's breath hitched; he was still anything but keen on the situation, although he and Whizzer had been dating for years now, and known each other for even longer. "Don't tell yourself otherwise, baby. You're perfect, and- my my--" Whizzer reached down, wrapping a hand around Marvin's length and grinning as he jolted his hips slightly forward at the sudden touch, a startled sigh escaping him, "your toy keeps my ass as happy as a clam."

"Aren't you a tease?" Marvin said, having regained his breath. With a newfound confidence, he pulled Whizzer's hand away, shoving him backwards onto the bed, to which the younger happily retook his submissive position.

In an instant, Marvin was kneeling between his spread legs, massaging his inner thighs and gazing at his masterpiece with complete heart-eyes. One could possibly argue that being seen so vulnerable, in such a degrading position, couldn't be at all "beautiful", but the two lovers couldn't agree less. There was something elegant about sex. Neither of them actually verbalized how they felt after the deed was all said and done, but both of them clearly felt it. Something about the way Whizzer laid there, one hand resting on his toned abdomen, another preemptively skating across the bedsheets, searching for a fine place to grab when the pleasure became too much, was beautiful. The way his legs bent fully at the joints, just hardly propped up against the white-stained covers, was beautiful, too.

Marvin couldn't even bare to think about how Whizzer would look afterwards; fucked out, his hair messy, wet, and loosely clinging to his candy face, while his sweaty apendages, their joints kissed by the color of a rising sun's aura, flopped against the bed, too exhausted to move, his abdomen left dotted in semen from the two of them. It made Marvin shiver with sheer pleasure just to consider the dirty fantasy.

But now there was a dirty fantasy right in front of him.

Marvin quietly hacked up some spit to use as makeshift lube, since hurting his baby wasn't even a minor priority on his mind. While he rubbed it along himself, Whizzer began to refine his position.

"Breathe deep, Whizzer," Marvin smiled, breathlessly positioning his own self with Whizzer's entrance and beginning to push in, slowly and almost gracefully.

The silence broke like a weak tether; quickly. Whizzer moaned, the noise but a quirk in the back of his throat for the time being. Desperately, he rolled his hips forward, and with Marvin's help, took the rest of the shaft inside of him. It took him a few moments just to adjust to the size, as if his body didn't just remember from the constant other times they'd done this before.

"Oh, God," Whizzer said, touching himself to increase the stimulation on both fronts. The confidence from his voice was gone. Now, it was Marvin's turn to he in charge of him; he was the opponent, and the soft bed was the arena.

It was Marvin's instinct to shush Whizzer, since Jason was usually in the vicinity whenever they were horny (unfortunate, but quite true), but he eventually remembered the young one's departure, throwing away the thought. They were alone now. Sing out, Whizzer. Sing your damn heart out for me.

They began to develop a rhythm; Marvin, who was gripping intently onto Whizzer's outer thighs, pulling himself forward and punctuating each thrust with a grunt, and Whizzer, who had begun to grip the sheets, whining softly each time Marvin hit him just right.

After Whizzer begged him to do so, Marvin abandoned his other half's left thigh, leaning forward to thread his fingers between Whizzer's to make up for the loss. The gentle squeeze was comforting. It reminded them that they were a team- lovers, unlikely so, but lovers.

Marvin squeezed Whizzer's hand and thigh out of habit, his movements beginning to quicken. "C'mon, Whizzer," he groaned, before his words faded out into an abyss containing the deafening noises of skin against skin, whines, moans- plus everything in between.

Rolling his hips again, Whizzer suddenly jolted upwards onto his free elbow, allowing Marvin to kiss him yet again. It was much sloppier, and the two even had trouble reaching each other with the older now raising the intensity of his movements at an alarming rate, but just the feeling of their tongues against the other's made them melt regardless.

The hand that Whizzer had clamped against the bed sheet, knuckles white and all, released suddenly, flying up and wrapping over Marvin's back. His nails dug into the pale skin, grabbing and gnashing as he came startlingly closer to his high.

"Shit," Whizzer hummed, periodically pursing his bruised lips and pulling away from Marvin, who was almost imitating him in how similarly they reacted to one another. "Don't stop, don't stop- I'm gonna --" but he didn't get to finish, for with one final, high-pitched cry, he came over himself, rocking with pleasure.

Marvin followed, his movements suddenly becoming ridged. Each thrust made Whizzer whine and shutter, now that he had already came and was sensitive in those regions of himself, but he didn't mind letting Marvin use him through his own high. Besides, the feeling that Whizzer moments later received, being filled to the brim and then shot into like he were a broken flood dam relieved any uncomfort.

They felt warm, they felt sunshiny, and they felt exhausted.

Pulling out, Marvin, who characteristically struggled to catch his breath, paused to size up Whizzer. The bottom looked entirely how Marvin had dreamt he would, rosy red cheeks and all. It only required one short look for Marvin to be satisfied with his work, allowing himself to flop over next to him and allow his other half to weakly cuddle into his chest.

"Mm, I love you, Marv," Whizzer whispered, lazily closing his eyes and allowing his boyfriend to function as his pillow.

"I love you, too, baby," Marvin replied. His fingers threaded through his own messy, curly hair out of habit, trying to tame what was clearly uncontrollable. The sheets were sticky- or they were sticky, although either of the two were undesirable to a fair extent. They were so sleepy now, however, that they hardly paid notice. If they did, they didn't vocalize their disdain.

After a moment or two, Whizzer sighed. "I wanna snuggle, but I gotta take a bath now. I feel disgusting." His eyes were still blissfully closed, and he was still pressed against Marvin's chest, trying to will himself up but to no use.

"No, no baths," Marvin replied sternly, "until I get paid on Friday, showers only. The water bill is kicking our ass- would you rather have food or look like a damn yuppie?"

Whizzer smiled to himself, an innocent kind of evil visibly present in his youthful face. There's the Marv I know. Quietly, he began to sit up, cracking his knuckles. Squeezing the sheets and then Marvin's hand so hard did quite the number on his weak, nimble fingers. "Showers it is, then. You could join me?"

"Sounds nice." Marvin sat upright, too, for if he didn't, he probably wouldn't be up for a while, either, and it was far too early for a nap then.

"You know I always love back rubs from my man," Whizzer replied, sweetly urging the older to possibly take up the suggestion as he slid off of the bed, hobbling about the room to retrieve his clothing. It wall so scattered about, it somewhat resembled the effects of a tornado, like one had just passed through the room moments ago. There had been- that tornado was them.

"And I love getting my hair washed, Lord knows I've got a lot of it." The both of them laughed, continuing to strut about the room ass-naked to collect their bearings. There was the shirt, the pants, the boxers, the belt, the shoes, the socks, and bingo. It may not have been late in the day, but neither of them had any actual plans, so they settled on wearing matching, fuzzy, pink bathrobes until they were really motivated to change. Although the memory was fuzzy, Marvin vaguely remembered Cordelia gifting the hideously beautiful things to them a year ago.

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me, you know that?" Marvin asked, lovingly staring at Whizzer as he threw their clothes into their hamper.

For one who enjoyed compliments so much, Whizzer always became flustered whenever Marvin was the one dealing them. He glanced down shyly, mumbling, "Thank you, Marvie." The hazy pink that touched his cheeks could've been from either embarrassment or sex, but Marvin couldn't quite distinguish it.

"I love you, Whizzer Brown."

"Man- I love you, too, Marvin. I still get all jittery when I look at you--" he had stepped to the bathroom door, but his hand paused when it touched the handle, allowing him to slowly turn back around, "really, I'm so in love with you, it feels like a dream."

"Maybe it is a dream," Marvin sighed, following him with a robe draped over his shoulder.

Somedays, none of it felt real. They simply didn't deserve it, or so they believed they didn't. Even the other aspects of their family life were questionable. Jason, Mendel, Trina, even Cordelia and Charlotte- what had they done to deserve them, even through rocky patches?

Whizzer, who, always saw the glass half full, paused. "Well," he started, slowly, "even if it is a dream, I can't say I mind, because I'm still here with you."

"Oh, baby."

"Yup. Alright, c'mon- I'm covered inside and out with my own jizz, and that's just weird."

"Shower time!" Marvin laughed, following Whizzer into the bathroom.

"Shower time with Whizzer and Marvin!"

"Hell yeah."


End file.
